


Let Me In

by water_poet



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I love them so much, May knows, Michelle Knows, Nerdiness, Post-Movie(s), Rain, Running Away, Sarcasm, Television Watching, they're both such nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11449980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/water_poet/pseuds/water_poet
Summary: He's not going to let her stand out there in the freezing rainHe's not going to mention her tear streaks, either





	Let Me In

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I hate this title
> 
> Anyway, god bless this ship. I didn't put it in the tags, but I'd say they're both a year or two older, just to be safe

"Peter, honey? I'm leaving! There's leftovers in the fridge!"  
  
"Okay!" Peter calls, punching another equation into his calculator. He scribbles in his answer and sets his pencil down, straining to hear the door click shut. It does, and he breaths a sigh of relief. Between school and Spider-Man, he didn't get much alone time anymore.  
  
He slams his Pre-Calc book shut, just for the satisfaction of it. As if on cue, thunder echoes in the distance. One check of the weather app confirms there's a storm rolling in within the next hour.  
  
Perfect.  
  
He's taking the leftover pasta out of the microwave when the rain starts. It starts as a drizzle, but it doesn't take long to start pouring angrily.  
  
Peter doesn't mind. In truth, he's always liked the rain.  
  
According to Ned, and himself, stormy weather was perfect for Star Wars marathons. "If you're lucky" Ned had once insisted over lunch, "There'll be a clap of thunder right as Darth Vader says he's Luke's father"  
  
Peter had laughed, and Michelle had made a show of dropping her sandwich and pretending to spit out her drink before mockingly scolding them both about spoilers.  
  
Han's stuffing Luke into the Tauntaun when the tapping starts.  
  
Peter jumps, nearly knocking over the coffee table. He pauses the film and strains his ears, listening for it again. The only sound is the rain, and cars splashing by.  
  
He's about to press play when it happens again. This time, he knows where it's coming from.  
  
Peter approaches the window carefully. As he does so, another rock smacks against the glass. In spite of himself, he jumps back again.  
  
Hoping not to get hit by the next projectile, he quickly opens the window and sticks his head out. Aunt May had agreed to allow him to remove the screens, solely because "I don't need you running down the hall in that obnoxious outfit".  
  
He hadn't bothered to correct her.  
  
It's freezing outside, even without the icy rain. Peter looks around, but it doesn't take long to spot the rock tossing offender.  
  
"You gonna let me up or what?" the figure snaps. Their face is mostly hidden by their hood, but the voice is all too familiar.  
  
Peter tilts his head. "Michelle?"  
  
"No, Barack Obama"  
  
He rolls his eyes. It's most definitely Michelle. "I'll buzz you in" he calls down, and she's gone in an instant. He briefly considers not buzzing her right away, just to see her face scrunch up in rage, but he pressed the button and she's knocking on his door a few moments later.  
  
When Peter opens the door, the first thing he notices is that Michelle is absolutely soaked, to the point that he's worried about how long she was in the rain. Her jeans are stuck to her legs, and her hoodie is hanging like a sack on her body. When she pushes her hood back, her hair is matted and frizzy, and bits of it are plastered against her face and neck.  
  
"Hey, Parker" she croaks. As she shuffles inside, he gets a good look at her face. Her lips are tinted blue, and her eyes are rimmed red. He's never seen her so frail looking.  
  
She catches his eye and glares, looking down at her feet as she kicks off her sopping sneakers. Her bag follows, before she looks up at him again, smoothing her usual expression of utter indifference across her features.  
  
"Do you need a towel?" Peter asks.  
  
"No, I'm tumble dry. Low heat, please" she replies, and he realizes how stupid he sounds.  
  
"I'll get you some clothes" he says, taking her hand to lead her to the bathroom. Her fingers are icy cold, and he's even more worried.  
  
It's a small apartment, so he shoos her inside the bathroom and goes back to his own room to find clothes. He hopes his shirts and sweatpants will fit her, but at the same time he knows she most likely won't care.  
  
As he approaches the door, he hears Michelle choking down sobs. He takes a breath and knocks, and the sounds abruptly stop. The door opens a crack, and Peter passes off the clothes. He barely has time to pull his hand away before it slams shut again.  
  
"Thanks" comes a muffled voice.  
  
Peter mutters an acknowledgment he knows Michelle can't have heard and retreats to his living room, sitting back on the couch. The TV's been paused long enough that the logo is bouncing around the screen.  
  
He watches it blankly, thinking.  
  
His mind is buzzing with a million more questions than usual, and he's terrified he won't have the guts to ask him. Ned showing up at his apartment unannounced is one thing. But Michelle throwing rocks at his window in the pouring rain was unexpected, to say the least.  
  
Was she okay? Was she hurt? He's heard people in school joke about her having no home, and that she just lived under a bridge and showed up for school every day, and no one noticed.  
  
He really hopes he isn't about to discover it's true.  
  
Trying to distract himself, he gets up and retrieves her book bag, dragging it into the living room and unzipping it, hoping to let it air out a bit. He doesn't want to pry any further than that.  
  
The bathroom door opens, and Michelle shuffles out, holding a bundle of wet clothes. Peter is by her in an instant, collecting the pile.  
  
"Here, I'll put these in the dryer, hang on" he says, opening the closet that houses the laundry room and dumping the pile inside, putting the machine on the lowest setting in hopes that he won't destroy any of his friend's clothes.  
  
As he turns, he sees Michelle glaring at him, arms crossed. His shirt is only slightly baggy on her, and the pants don't appear to have been rolled up at all.  
  
He wonders if that should bother him.  
  
"Were you snooping in my stuff?" she snaps, indicating her bag.  
  
"No! No, I just opened the bag to let it air out" Peter says.  
  
Michelle's expression turns suspicious, but a moment later it grows tired, and she nods.  
  
"Thanks" she mumbles.  
  
Then she sneezes, and it's the cutest thing Peter has ever heard.  
  
He reminds himself that she's been in the cold.  
  
"Have you eaten anything?"  
  
She shakes her head. "Not since lunch"  
  
"Do you have any allergies?"  
  
"Nuts. And stupid people"  
  
It sounds like an afterthought, as if she forgot how to be herself for a moment. Nevertheless, Peter smiles, fishing in the cupboard for a can of soup. As he cracks open the can and starts the stove, he can hear Michelle gently removing the contents of her backpack, swearing softly at the damage.  
  
"May has a hair dryer in the bathroom, if you need that to dry the books" he says, stirring the soup.  
  
Michelle scoffs. "As if I'd go through all that trouble for the American education system" she says, scooping up an armful of books and making her way to the bathroom.  
  
Peter glances up to see her ducking inside, and he takes a small breath.  
  
He's going to have to ask sooner or later.  
  
But he knows his curiosity isn't worth his friend's health, so he's determined to bite his tongue and get her body back up to a healthy temperature before asking a single question.  
  
The hair drying starts running, and he prays she's not crying again.  
  
Of all the people he loves, Michelle is the one he's most afraid to see so helpless. She was always sure of herself, not caring and brimming with confidence.  
  
Then again, he might not be the only one wearing a mask.  
  
The soup seems hot enough, so he pours it into a bowl and retrieves a spoon, just as the hair dryer shuts off and Michelle reemerges from the bathroom.  
  
He hands her the bowl and she accepts it with another soft expression of gratitude, pulling herself onto one of the barstools.  
  
As he's rinsing the dishes, Peter can't help but glance back at Michelle. He can tell she's trying to pretend she's not as hungry as she is, taking tentative spoonfuls with a shaking hand.  
  
He dumps the can into the recycling bin and makes his way to the counter, opposite his companion. She doesn't acknowledge him, and he's about to ask her if she's alright when she look up and meets his gaze, dark eyes glassy.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
Peter jumps, and she snickers. In spite of his being the butt of the joke, he laughs with her. For a moment, everything is familiar.  
  
Michelle sets the spoon down and drains the rest of the bowl, grimacing. "God, it's like drinking sea water"  
  
Peter claps his hand over his chest in mock offense. "Are you insinuating I can't cook?"  
  
"Yes" she deadpans, and they both laugh. She stands and makes her way to the TV, picking up the remote. "What saucy flick were you watching, Parker?" she teases, pressing the play button. He watches with amusement as the screen flickers back to life, and Michelle's face wrinkles in disgust.  
  
"You're gross" she declares.  
  
"It's Star Wars, MJ"  
  
She lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. This would make some weird porn"  
  
He snatches the remote from her, blushing furiously. "Shut up" he says, pausing the film again.  
  
She sits on the couch and he follows suite. There's a few moments of silence, but they're not exactly uncomfortable. After all, Michelle never talked much anyway.  
  
"So why are you here?" Peter finally asks.  
  
Michelle grabs the remote. "Let's go back to watching your weird porno, that looked fun"  
  
Peter places his hand around her wrist, firmly. She glares at him, but he refuses to let go.  
  
"Michelle, at least tell me why you came to me" he says, a little softer.  
  
She sets the remote down and looks at the TV, which had gone back to the bouncing logo. As she speaks, her eyes follow it.  
  
"I couldn't think of anywhere else to go" she mutters. "Figured Spider-Man could help me out"  
  
She'd known for a while now, and was honestly taking it far better than even Peter himself had.  
  
"I'm flattered... I think" he manages.  
  
Michelle looks down at her hands, picking at the scabs around her nails. "I missed my bus and some guy went after me. I panicked and ran here"  
  
"What did he look like?"  
  
She smiles up at him. "As much as I'd love for you to sic him, I've no idea"  
  
"Why didn't you just walk home?" Peter asks.  
  
Michelle doesn't reply for a moment, and Peter worries he's crossed a line.  
  
"My brother's home from college. He dropped out. My parents won't stop fighting about it. I doubt they've even noticed I'm not there" she says. Her voice starts to quiver, and Peter instinctively slips an arms around her shoulders. To his surprise, she presses up against him, breathing shakily.  
  
"Sorry, it's stupid" she whispers thickly, and Peter wants nothing more than to hold her tight until everything is normal again.  
  
"Shh, it's not. It's okay" he says, pulling her a little closer. Looking down, he sees her eyes go back to the screen. She doesn't want to talk about it, and he shouldn't force her to.  
  
"I just... needed someone I could trust" she says softly.  
  
Peter's face is burning, but he grabs the remote. "You can also trust good old Lucas. Except with the prequels" he says, pressing play.  
  
Michelle wrinkles her nose. "Oh, god. I was going to thank you, but now we have to watch one of your nerd films?"  
  
"Shhh, watch the master work" Peter says, gesturing towards the scene.

At any other time, she would have had a comeback prepared. But this time, she's silent. Peter glances at her to see her dark eyes glazed over, staring at the screen. He doubts she's processing any of it. Her mind is far too busy for that.  
  
As it turns out, Michelle is an excellent movie companion. Despite her distracted mind, she laughs on cue and winces when necessary. He's never seen her so contentedly quiet. He wants the movie to last forever, to just live in this moment of peace, with Michelle.  
  
"D'you think the Germans were super underwhelmed by the twist?" she asks suddenly.  
  
Peter frowns. "What?"  
  
"The Germans! Since Vader means father" she clarifies, rolling her eyes. The bite is back in her voice, and Peter's never been so glad to be patronized.  
  
"I knew that" he mutters, "but yes, I guess they weren't impressed. But maybe some of them were thinking of the name in a non literal sense, you know?"  
  
She raises an eyebrow. She doesn't know, apparently.  
  
Peter continues, his eyes lighting up. "Like, maybe he's the father of the dark empire or something"  
  
Michelle almost snorts, rolling her eyes again. "My god, you are a nerd" she says, and he gets the feeling she's trying to compliment him.  
  
The credits start to roll, and Michelle shifts uncomfortably.  
  
"Do you have to go home?" Peter asks softly.  
  
She bites her lip. "I should" she mumbles, looking downwards like a kid caught telling a lie.  
  
Peter reached out and tilts her chin upward gently, smiling sincerely. "Do you _want_ to go home?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked with hers.  
  
For a moment, she says nothing, just takes a shaky breath and licks her lips. When she looks up again, her eyes are darker and calmer. She shakes her head.  
  
"No"  
  
Peter nods. "Then you're staying here"  
  
She shakes her head again, pulling away from him. "As much as I love annoying you, this might be too much" she insists, "Besides, my dad would kill you. Mom and Sammy, too, I'll bet"

To her surprise, Peter laughs. "Trust me, there's no way you can snore louder than Ned" he assures her, "And I'll explain what happened, if you want. If you're lucky, they'll forbid you from ever seeing me again"

Michelle grins, just barely. "I'll tell them I'm at my cousin's. She lives alone, and she'll back me up"

Peter throws his hands in the air. "Why didn't you say so? Here I was thinking I was going to be beaten to a pulp by your whole family"  
  
The smirk that he's grown to love is back. "That would make for a pretty interesting headline" Michelle says, gently punching his shoulder.

* * *

"How the hell can you sleep on this thing?"  
  
Peter sighs, rolling over in his bunk. "You get used to it" he assures her, unable to stop his smile as he hears her shuffling above him. After a few moments, she lets out a contented sigh and the creaking stops. He lies back, thinking.  
  
He likes Michelle.  
  
_Really_ likes her.  
  
There was something about her seemingly unbreakable, stubborn nature that made her like a stone in rough seas, stoic and unmoved as the waves roared around her. She didn't smile often, but when she did, it was radiant in her own cynical, cryptic way.  
  
Peter's completely unsure how long he's had a crush on her, but he's certain he does. And when they're laughing and doing their homework, he can't help but feel a little hollow inside.  
  
For a superhero, he's not had much romantic luck.  
  
His eyes close for a moment, and her smile flashes before them.  
  
He doesn't know how long he's been staring at the top bunk, eyes opening and shutting periodically, until he's jolted from his stupor by quiet sniffling.  
  
Clenching his fist, he sucks in a breath, holding it in his chest. He strains his ears for any sound of an intruder. But all he can hear is gentle sobs.  
  
With a in an instant, he's pulled himself up to her bunk, propped up near the head of the bed. She's curled into a ball, and when she looks up her eyes are bloodshot and dreary.  
  
"Peter" she whispers, hastily wiping her eyes. "Sorry, bad dreams and stuff" she clarifies, pulling her knees closer to her chest.  
  
"Do you usually have nightmares?" he asks softly, pulling himself higher and moving to sit next to her on the bed, letting his legs dangle. She shrugs and mumbles something about not remembering her dreams, her eyes staring blankly at his desk.  
  
"Michelle?"  
  
She hums a response, but doesn't meet his eyes. Instead, he slips his fingers through her and squeezes.  
  
"You're always welcome here. To me. I mean, t-to talk to me" he says, his voice shaking slightly. She turns to look up at him, and she's still beautiful, even with her hair matted from sleep and her eyes dull.  
  
She smiles weakly. "Thanks"  
  
He brushes some hair from her eyes, and she startles him with a sudden snort.  
  
"What is this, a romcom?" she asks playfully, but unable to keep the exhausted edge from her voice.  
  
Peter grins in spite of himself. "It can be" he says, and it's far more flirtatious than he ever intended.  
  
His companion laughs before letting out a dramatic gasp, suddenly gripping the collar of his shirt like a lifeline.  
  
"Kiss me, Peter!" she croons in an obnoxious silver screen impersonation. She's so damn adorable that he's tempted, but he opts to push her away and laugh with her before pulling her into a hug. She stiffens for a moment, surprised, but eventually wraps her arms under his, nestling into his shoulder.  
  
"Don't get used to this, Parker" she mumbles into his shirt. He pats her head absently, too distracted to respond.  
  
He lets go of her, and for a brief moment, there's silence. Their eyes are locked, chocolate and ink, and Peter wishes desperately he could read the sparks in Michelle's gaze.

"Fuck it" he hears her whisper, but before he can ask she surges forward and plants her lips firmly on his.  
  
For a moment, he's too stunned to anything. His mind is racing, and there's nothing else in the world but Michelle.  
  
She pulls away suddenly, frowning and arms crossed. "You gonna help me out here, or what? I was trying to be romantic" she says, to flustered to sound annoyed.  
  
Peter shakes his head. "Right, sorry. Let me try again"  
  
He cups her jaw and kisses her again, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when her lips start to move again his, chapped and warm.  
  
Michelle's teeth sink into his lower lip carefully, and he groans just enough that he allows their tongues to touch. His hands are in her hair, hers are in the folds of his shirt, and everything is perfect.  
  
With a small gasp, they break apart. Michelle's lips are suddenly on his jaw and his neck, teeth grazing the pale skin.  
  
He jumps, pushing her away and staring at her questioningly.  
  
Michelle glares at him, mussed hair framing a flushed face and swollen lips, looking for all the world like an annoyed kitten.  
  
"Must) you be such a gentleman all the time?" she asks, crawling forwards, closer to him.  
  
Peter feels his face heat up, but he pulls her into his lap with a sly grin. "What can I say? Chivalry's not dead?"  
  
For a moment, she looks ready to punch him. But a second later she just rolls her eyes, kissing him again almost casually.  
  
Her back hits the bed and she's looking up at him, for once not skeptically or teasingly. Her hair fans out behind her, dark tendrils curling against the white sheets. She's beautiful, and he knows he'd give her the world if she only asks.  
  
His lips gently brush over the junction at her neck and shoulder, humming softly. She mutters something obscene, and he looks down at her, raising an eyebrow.  
  
She shoves his chest before pressing her hands into his hair so their lips meet again.

"You know we can't - "  
  
She bends her knee so it catches him in the stomach, cutting him off with a cry of pain. He glares down at her, before collapsing by her side, ignoring the harsh creak from the bed.  
  
He slips an arm under her and she shoots him a look.  
  
"You were trying to fuck me not give second ago, I can damn well cuddle with you" he says, grinning.  
  
She rolls her eyes and shifts closer to him, head against his chest.  
  
"Guess this really is a romcom. Cool superhero falls for stunning nerd loner" Michelle says, sounding vaguely displeased. "I hate upholding the patriarchy"  
  
Peter's chest vibrates as he laughs.  
  
"God, you're amazing" he exhales, so soft she almost doesn't hear.  
  
"The Amazing Michelle and Spider-Man. The ultimate summer blockbuster" she murmurs, eyes drooping.  
  
"I'd watch it" Peter slurs, pulling her closer. "Maybe just rental, though. Sounds kinda boring" he adds teasingly.  
  
She mutters something about female driven films being undermined by corporations, but they're both asleep before her tirade even starts.

**Author's Note:**

> We need a ship name for this. Any ideas?


End file.
